King Calvalry
by WisdomWright
Summary: Lost in a snowstorm behind German lines the squad is aided by equine refugees.


My first attempt at ever writing a story. I got one of my ideas from the suit worn by Australian outlaw Ned Kelly and some other examples I've seen dating back to the civil war.

King cavalry

Sarge was getting worried. The squad had been sent to recon a secluded valley looking for enemy activity resistance units or O.P. sites. Problem was the temperature had dropped and it was snowing hard.

Any shelter they came across had been burned. The Krauts had been busy here recently and the Sarge hoped they weren't still around. His maps were sketchy , it was taking Longer to circle back to they're

lines than figured ,and it was getting dark. This time out the squad consisted of Doc, Littlejohn, Caje and Kirby.

" Take ten " he ordered. They're heavy equipment was making walking in the snow more of a struggle. "That tears it!" complained Kirby "I wish them army weathermen were here right now!"

His feet were blistered and starting to freeze. He'd been issued an ill-fitting pair of boots early in his service and the blisters never got time to fully heal. He was used to Chicago winters but it was different

being in the wilderness with no shelter. He had a lot more to say more but noticed the Sarge deep in thought. You could see the gears turning in his mind as he considered the situation from every angle.

At these times Kirby would hold his tongue never wanting to distract the Sarge from devising a plan to get them out of a jam. Sarge shook out his map. There was an old road back to the village where they're

current base was located. It ran between two ridges, he hoped they could make it undetected but someone was watching.

High above in a tree She scanned the valley with a telescope. Glimpsing movement in the treelike She focused in. For a moment she couldn't believe what she was seeing. They were to "irregular" to be

Germans. The uniforms and equipment were all wrong. It was almost to much to hope for that they could be Americans. She said it aloud. "Americans!" "Americans!" She scrambled down the tree.

skidding on loose rocks and ice ran to and mounted a creature that looked like a wooly mammoth-jackrabbit. Actually it was a Dutch mammoth mule,chosen for its sure-footedness. It was wearing a white

bedspread and she was wearing a white tablecloth in an attempt at camouflage. They trotted further up the ridge to a dilapidated hunting cabin. beside it was a paddock containing nine horses of different

shapes and sizes.

She thought back to how She came to be here. having traveled from Virginia to convince her parents to leave. They were teaching at a university, they had left for England with the

promise that she would pack they're things and leave the next week. But the German invasion had come accompanied by bombing. She joined some refugees on the road were She met an elderly man

with a herd of horses. He was fleeing with the horses left from the military riding school he ran. She had decided to help him and so ended up near his home village. Brook was his name or at least

how he pronounced it. She knew little French to begin with so communication was difficult at Boch were his ancestral enemy, he had fought them in the great war so he knew all the hiding places.

She had always been interested in horse training and Brook was one of Europe's finest trainer's especially of military horses. They had hid on this ridge occasionally sneaking out at night to visit Brook's

family in the village or trading away horses for weapons and supplies. Never imagining the German occupation could last so long. Brook had been a kind grandfatherly mentor that is why it was so devastating

to her when he fell ill that spring. He refused to leave the horses for the comfort of his family and died in the cabin.

The valley hadn't caught the attention of the Germans on there're end run invasion of France but since the allied landing they had started moving into it. Most of the young people in the area had left to

help the resistance. The Germans must have known this since they had of late murdered the helpless old farmers that remained and burned they're houses. She had witnessed some of this

from her observation posts. Later she would scavenge the ruins for supplies. That is where she came upon the dog wounded. A black and tan collie carried it home and nursed it to health.

A watchdog could be useful.

Without foliage on the trees there was no way to hide from the aircraft reconnoitering with more frequency. Hiding the horses and the manure they produced was getting to be a problem.

She couldn't evade the Germans much longer and since she was out of supplies and places to hide, the Americans Seemed the only chance of escape.

Hands shaking, She packed up the horses. They had practiced a quick escape many times. Brook had kept a cavalry museum at the riding school. He'd brought some of the more important items on his

flight. Most of it he left with his relatives to hide. The rest he had brought to the cabin. Many relics from the Napolionic era to the great war. She knew more about the American civil war since her family

had a storied history from that time. She had promised Brook on his deathbed to keep his treasures safe for France. Almost out of clothing she chose an unornate uniform coat out of Brooks collection

If She was gonna get shot trying to escape She figured she might as well have a nice suit on. She gave the horses the last handfuls of grain she had salvaged. They had been bringing the herd to the fields at the

bottom of the mountain at night to graze but it had become to dangerous. Being winter there wasn't any grass anyway, so the horses especially the big ones had fallen off in weight considerably.

It was dark now and she was ready. Checking her weapons She mounted the head mare, a big bay. The horses recognized her as their leader and would stay with her. They had also been trained to walk

In formation for parades which made it easy. So they were off, the dog leading the way jumping thru the snowdrifts. It had started snowing again but they got to where they could see the men's bootprints.

At least they weren't German bootprints. She prayed they would be decent men and well fed. Horses were on the menu for solder and civilian alike. Although she couldn't hold a horses life above a

humans, Brook had collected rare breeds from all over Europe she wished that some of them could make it thru the war.

On another ten minute break Doc was examining Kirby's feet with a flashlight. Kirby was getting real scared now, he'd heard stores of men loosing they're toes and even feet from frostbite. Doc gave him

a pair of dry socks, he frowned up at Sarge. "Getting a little frostbite Sarge." Sarge knew they were a long way from the village, behind German lines. A fire was out of the question. At that moment Cage

who had been watching behind them came running up the road. "Something is coming Sarge." Everyone ducked behind something. They could here something large approaching. The crunch of snow

and muffled creaking of leather.

The dog stopped it's hair standing up, whimpering it ran behind the horses. Simultaneously stopping the herd, She cocked her gun and leaped down to hide behind a large tree. Heart pounding she waited.

A call of "hand hooch" came. That was not what She wanted to hear. Finger tightening on the trigger She was ready to start shooting. She had seen and heard what happened to those unfortunate enough

to fall into German hands. Same command this time in French. A moment passed, the horses stamped nervously. They were dangerously exposed. " Aren't you Americans" she whispered loudly.

" Come out with your hands up" came a reply. Sounded enough like an American to her so she slowly stood and walked ahead. Shaking with terror, after all these were armed men. Suddenly she was

flashlights in her face. The gun was grabbed off her shoulder almost jerking her off the ground. She wasn't worried about a frisking since she had on heavily quilted clothing. They found a luger and very

old telescope on her " Alright who are you and why are you following us?" Definitely an accent from some northern city.

These looked like some angry rough customers." My name is Tom" she stammered (she chose that name because her brothers always called her Tomboy) "Were trying to escape the Germans.

There is nowhere to hide anymore". I swear it's just me, these horses and a dog"! " Check it out" Sarge ordered. The men looked over the horses and their packs " Sarge look at this"! giggled Littlejohn.

His light trained on the big fluffy mule. A smile almost flit across the Sarges face. She saw Doc and Littlejohn patting the horses necks. She sighed with relief. These men obviously liked horses.

The squad had seen many horses in the war. Most of them putrefying carcasses that lie strewn across the countryside. Caught in bombings, minefields or refugee's horses driven to exhaustion and

abandoned by the side of the road. Littlejohn would often shake his head at the awful sights. "This is no war for horses" he would say. His family raised horses on they're farm and he had great reverence for

them. Doc's family farms with horses so he was very fond of them. His first experiences doctoring were with horses. "What is all this stuff"? Sarge demanded, motioning toward the packs. She explained

they were French military artifacts and asked for help in getting to American lines. He looked the bizarre circumstances, The desperate "Tom," the age of the equipment and decided to believe her.

"Now we just can't" She cut him off "look on these horses we can move a lot faster in the snow, I know the way". Sarge thought about it. On a horse you were a sitting duck. They left a trail a mile wide

to visible, to noisy. She continued "These are French military horses, you can shoot off them, they will lie down on command". "Please Sarge"! pled Littlejohn. He hated to walk anywhere he could ride.

Sarge thought back to when he was a kid and his family would visit an aunt's farm outside the city they lived. He had camped, swam, fished and hunted with his cousins.

Learning many skills that would serve him well in the war. Their transportation to these activities were the farm horses. As it turned out most of the men had some experience on a horse.

Accept Kirby, "N…nothing doing Sarge!" the only horse I've seen is the one that pulled a milk wagon in my neighborhood" Kirby stuttered slightly when worked up. Being cold wasn't helping.

His fear of the huge animals outweighed his aching feet. "Get on the horse" insisted Sarge. She had equipped five of the horses ahead of time for the men to ride. They adjusted stirrups

Tightened girths and got Kirby seated on the quietest horse. "It's a long way down from up here" he shivered. "At least if you fall it will be on snow" teased Caje. "Ha, ha, is that supposed to make

me feel better" retorted Kirby. Actually when he thought about it did. So the column moved out, Littlejohn rode the biggest horse, a dapple grey draft. He instructed Kirby on how to steer.

" Hey maybe this isn't so bad" Kirby said as they forded an icy stream, his feet staying high and dry. They had reached a lower elevation and the snow wasn't as deep. It was getting light out and

Sarge figured they might be nearing German lines. He ordered a dismount and they walked leading the horses. It was at this time she approached the Sarge pretty sure she could trust him.

" I took notes on everything I saw in the valley, the markings on the uniforms and vehicles of the Germans that came and murdered the farmers. I hope they will pay for what they did. I sewed

them in the saddle blanket on my horse". Sarge knew this was valuable information. "I'll make sure it get's to the right people"he promised.

When the dog stopped and slunk behind the horses Sarge motioned them off the road." Can I have my gun back now"? She asked. Sarge nodded. She stayed with Doc and the horses while

the rest of the squad moved foreword probing for German activity. It din't take long for them to run into a German roadblock in a very strategic position where the road ran between bluffs.

Sarge guessed maybe a dozen Germans manning it with a heavy machine gun . He thought the squad wouldn't be noticed since they were coming from behind the German lines but they must

have been very alert that morning. Suddenly gunfire erupted. Hearing this She gave the command for the horses to lie down. The dog coward beside Doc. Sarge and Littlejohn tried to keep the

Germans busy while Kirby and Caje worked around the sides. Sarge contemplated having to leave the horses behind to save the squad. They might be able to climb the steep ridges and get around

the Germans but it would be dangerous . She crawled foreword cocking her scmesser. She had shot a lot of different guns before but these machine guns you kinda just point and then manage in

short bursts. Reaching Sarge and Littlejohn she assessed the situation while firing. "What we need is a tank!" yelled Littlejohn. " I have one of those" She yelled then "cover me" she screamed at Sarge

He couldn't get what she said especially since She was crawling back to where the horses were. When She got there she pulled off several of the horses packs and commenced to armor the horse

Littlejohn had been riding. Amongst the artifacts Brook had kept was a set of prototype great war horse armor. Many types of human armor had been made at that time in attempts to gain

government contracts. None of them worked, they were all to heavy and all failed to protect the legs. Brook considered the horse armor a curiosity and used it in exhibitions. She hoped it would

distract the Germans enough so they could escape before reinforcements could arrive. Doc stared incredulous as She struggled to lift the plates, buckling them on then put armor on herself

topped off by a bizarre helmet face mask. She asked the horse to lie down as mounting in the normal fashion would be impossible. The big horse was historically bred a knights charger,

the only one amongst the herd capable of carrying the armor's weight. The mule probably could but they were known to be to stubborn (or prudent ) to go into gunfire. Still the big horse couldn't

run more than a couple hundred yards with it on. The horse struggled up to it's feet and She checked her weapons. She readied a couple german grenades. She had been instructed on their use

but since practicing with them would have attracted to much attention she would just have to take a chance.

On command the horse shot foreword, angled to the side of Littlejohn and the Sarge clearing the logs they were sheltered behind. They momentarily paused as the horse flew over them looking like

a giant segmented insect, and for an instance blocking out the sun. "Pour it on!" Sarge screamed, directing his men to cover the mounted attack. The other squad members always on the alert for Sarge's

directives opened up at once. It was usually impossible to hear him above the battle so they learned to read his signal's and after a while with him could guess his intentions.

The the mounted attack was a surprise to the Germans. Caught in an enfilade there was suddenly to many targets to shoot at so they aimed at the biggest one. Bullets struck the armor almost

knocking her from the horse. The saddle had a high pommel and cantle that held her body in. In a couple more seconds She had the grenade ready and threw. The armor restricted movement but

She had played baseball with her brothers and routinely struck them out. Besides cleaning up after that many horses built stamina. As She let fly She commanded the horse to lie down, jumping away

to avoid being caught under its crushing weight. The following explosion buffeted them with debris. The squad ran forward to take care of any remaining Germans. When the dust cleared they could

see horse and rider sprawled out on the ground.

Doc ran up when the shooting stopped, Sarge always ordered him to stay in a place of relative safety when things got hot. Occasionally he would dash out to drag a wounded man to cover, never

forgetting Sarge's advice "If you get hurt you can't help anyone." He was usually the first to reach and deal with terrible situations in the aftermath of battle. Often he was the only one who could

accurately report what happened in a battle from his observations.

Doc and Sarge arrived just as the horse struggled to its feet, armor off kilter. It shook like a big dog clattering. It sniffed at and nudged the figure on the ground then jerked up its head when the men

approached. Holding it's head low and shaking it he took a couple of aggressive steps toward the Sarge. Doc recognizing frightened, angry horse stopped dead in his tracks. "look out Sarge!" he warned

but it was to late and Sarge was way to close . The horse pawed and snapped it's teeth threateningly. Littlejohn ran up his rifle ready, he knew what a horse could do to a human. He also wasn't sure

if he could even stop the horse by shooting at it. Sarge held up his hand "Don't shoot, we're all getting out of here" he said with an extra twist of his head he gave when extra emphatic about

something. Not wanting any harm to come to this brave horse he slowly held out his hand like he learned to give a horse an apple or carrot on his aunt's farm. He had nothing to offer, He usually kept

a cookie or biscuit wrapped in his pocket for emergencies but he had given it to the dog earlier. Hoping the gesture would be interpreted as friendly or at least non-theatening. The horses teeth

snapped inches from his fingers. He could feel it's breath, it sniffed his hand then gave a plaintive nicker. Just then "Tom" coughed and attempted to sit up, having been hit several times and

slammed when falling from a horse had knocked the wind out of her.

Littlejohn comforted the frightened horse. One of the few instances. he could say to someone larger than himself " it's gonna be all right big fella". It was full daylight now. Doc and Sarge helped

"Tom" to sit up and removed the helmet face mask. At that moment they both realized it was a women. They looked at each other in surprise, "Sarge!" Doc exclaimed. Before he could respond

She said "get me outta this stuff before more Germans come!" They helped unbuckle the plating from her and the horse leaving it on the ground. Assisting her they ran back to the horses.

" Check the road ahead for mines!" Sarge yelled back at Caje. Caje was the fastest runner amongst them, Kirby was a close second but his choice of weaponry impeded him. If anything was amiss

Caje could get back to notify Sarge Quick!

The Horses lie still where they had been left. One would look around now and then. A few of them shivered from cold or fear. Sarge looked at them and wished some of the men under his command

in the past could have followed orders and been as loyal as these horse solders. They helped the women on her prone horse. Kirby also needed help. He had ceased to feel his feet at all as he ran

during the battle. He held his rising panic down, knowing there was nothing to do but get to shelter quickly. The horses all rose on command just as Cage hustled back "All clear Sarge!"

"Let's go" Sarge said and with a wave of his hand the column cantered ahead, Kirby barely hanging on.

A few miles down the road Doc noticing a lot of blood on the snow trotted ahead to where Sarge was. " Can we stop a minute?" he asked. Sarge glanced back to see the women's arm dripping

Her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Take ten" he said. Doc assisted the women off her horse, helped her sit. Then he cut the sleeve past the wound on her arm. It was bleeding and swelling but

dint seem broken. He sulfad and wrapped it. She also had a lot of bad bruises and possible broken ribs. When he stood up Littlejohn and the big horse were waiting patiently for him to finish.

The horse had been hit several times. None seemed serious. Doc and Littlejohn agreed it looked worse than it was. Horses could loose a lot of blood before they were really in trouble. Doc sulfad

the wounds. The horse showed no outward sign of pain, draft horses could be stoic that way. Doc checked Kirby but there was nothing he could do but assure him the town was close.

Meanwhile Sarge got on the radio. Giving the familiar call signals he finally reaching Handly. Who had been concerned, since he sent the squad out the weather had changed and they were long

overdue. " Were coming in from the west. Is the road mined? over ." came Sarges voice. "No the road is clear, I'll notify the roadblock, over." reported Hanley. "Another thing" came back

Sarge. " We will be on horses over." Handys eyebrows shot up "Horses!" "Roger that out" he said trying to imagine the squad on horses.

They Mounted up again, the women with difficulty. Riding with broken ribs was painfully jarring. "Were almost there" Sarge assured her and Kirby. They made it thru the roadblock

where the sentries pointed and laughed at the sight of them. They came to the village square where the horses automatically gathered around an ornate fountain. As they drank deeply the men

dismounted stiffly. They had been on the march for 24 hours and were unused to riding horses. Doc helped the women and Caje helped Kirby to the aid station.

Hearing a commotion outside Hanley went to the headquarters doorway and stood agape. Being a horseman himself he could immediately see the fine breeding of these horses and the age

of the tack they wore. When the Sarge came toward him he said "What is this King cavalry?" Sarge was to tired to react. He quickly briefed Hanley on what happened then they went outside to

retrieve the notes from the saddle blanket. Hanley arranged for a local vet to pasture the horses and treat the big horse's wounds. The military artifacts were taken charge of by the mayor of the village.

The next day at the aid station: She lie in a cot screened off in the corner, slightly nauseous from the morphine they gave her. She had been visited by Brook's relatives. They begged her to

come stay with them when She was better. She had brought Brook's body home to them at great risk. They gave her bottles of wine, cheese and bread. After they left She shared some

with Kirby who was a few cots away feet propped up reading a comic. He took a big swig from the bottle of wine she gave him then promptly stashed it to avoid possible confiscation.

He was in a cheerful mood. He had been sure his feet were ruined but the doctor said he had gotten there in time before permanent damage had occurred.

Later the squad visited looking much different all clean and smiling. They brought the dog with them and assured her the horses were being cared for. "What will you do now?" asked Handly.

"I guess my parent's and boyfriend have been looking for me, I was only supposed to be in France a couple weeks" She smiled. The squad couldn't stay long as they were getting ready to move

out again. They gave her some chocolate, cigarettes, rations and Stars and stripes. Valuable commodities at the time. She in return gave them some of the stuff Brook's family had left. They each

gave her a careful hug mindful of her injuries. "You all be careful out there" she said, knowing they faced some real hardened killers. The dog stayed behind lying next to her cot. They stopped to visit

with Kirby who would be joining them when his feet were better. Then they filed outside joking and laughing, headed for there next mission.

The End


End file.
